


Overcome

by hiddenlongings



Series: Dresden AU Series [11]
Category: Dresden Files - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-14
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:28:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenlongings/pseuds/hiddenlongings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John is attacked Harry is pushed over the edge. Now court or council, someone is going to pay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

They had been walking out of the office building that had Marcone's main boardroom in it. The sun was just starting to set and Marcone's expression was calm enough though Hendricks could read the faint layer of smugness that underlined it.

There were some benefits to having the same boss for over a decade. No matter how stoic John was about his relationship with Dresden, Hendricks knew that it was important to both men.

Yesterday Marcone had gone to a charity event that had ended in some sort of ill-advised stunt in an alley that had Hendricks struggling to contain his guffaws.

He had known his boss for a long time and it had been far too long since Marcone had had the sort of fun that Dresden led him into. Hendricks knew that he should be more concerned about their stunts but the fact was anything that Dresden couldn't and Marcone as a team couldn't take on was likely too much for mere mortals like Hendricks no matter how well trained he was.

Today had been all business and between the two of them they had cleaned up in the boardroom today. Dresden's mixture of impatience and aggression, made desperate people accept the calm and seemingly kind Marcone at face value. The result being they got hosed without even knowing it.

Dresden had been forced to leave earlier in the evening when a breathless Dewdrop Fairy buzzed into the room and landing on Dresden's shoulder whispered into his ear, his entire body shaking with excitement.

Dresden's face twisted into a snarl as he got the gist of what was being said to him.

All Hendricks' had managed to overhear was a couple of different colors. He didn't know why the red and white colors working together made Dresden go pale, but anything that managed it was probably scary enough that Hendricks really didn't want to know any more about it than he already did.

Hendricks was a more than competent bodyguard anyone less aware wouldn't have even noticed what was happening before it was far too late. But he did, and his awareness saved Marcone's life.

The unexpected assault began in the shadows. Hendricks had only a couple of seconds to realize what was about to happen before the monsters erupted from the darkness that they had been hiding in.

"John! Run!"

It was enough lead-time that he managed to squeeze off a couple of bullets into the black skin of the monster that lead the charge. The force of the bullets tumbled her off of her feet smashing through her pendulous breasts and piercing her heart.

The rest of the pack simply leapt over their leader, before she even had a chance to collapse, and continued the charge with a cacophony of hissing screeches that made Hendricks' ears ring.

Her body hit the floor with a crash but she was just one of many and Hendricks was quickly tackled to the floor by four more of the hideous bodies. As he struggled against their weight, he desperately tried to see what was happening to Marcone.

John was struggling in grim silence against three more of the hideous things bat wings were curled in close to the body while they swung out stringy arms with claws that tore through cloth and flesh with ease whenever they connected.

Gleaming teeth drooled a steady stream of saliva that Hendricks was more than ready to believe was probably acidic as it steamed whenever it hit his clothing. A gaping mouth headed directly towards his face, Hendricks had to tear his attention away from John long enough to stick a knife into the eye of the thing.

It (a male by the looks of its' flat chest) pulled back with a frantic squeal and tried to pull the serrated blade out without much success.

A sudden bellow of pain from John had Hendricks' using a sudden extra surge of adrenaline to throw the other three of the monsters to the side and he dove and connected with the back of the creature that had just seized a sizeable portion of John's side into its' mouth and was scissoring its' jaws to turn the bite into a ragged tear that would expose most of Marcone's internal organs.

The impact tore it free before it could connect all the way and it screeched in protest as his potentially fatal bite was halted before it could do more damage.

Hendricks' grabbed one side of the creature's jaws with his right hand and with a swift twist was able to forcefully snap its neck. It crumpled with a cut off cry as the light was extinguished from its' dark eyes.

Hendricks leapt back to his feet and spun towards John just in time to see another creature strike Marcone across the face with a closed fist that spun the mafia don into a nearby wall with a sickening crunch. John crumpled to the ground just as Hendricks saw a rip in the air begin to pull apart into a light filled opening.

Pulling a small revolver from underneath his jacket, Hendricks managed to squeeze off another shot directly into the nearest monsters head. He watched it explode into bone fragments and chunks of brain before looking impassively at whatever was coming through the Gate.

Hendricks would deny it to his dying day but when he saw Dresden charge through the opening like the wrath of God made flesh he huffed out a deep sigh of relief.

Dresden looked pissed.

His face was a snarling mask that was already liberally spattered with the oozing tar that seemed to be the monster's version of blood. His right hand clutched the ever present staff and in his left Hendricks thought he saw a small hummingbird flutter of white cloth.

Why was he clutching a handkerchief?

Hendricks' question was answered when Dresden flung it into the closest monsters' face and sunlight poured from its folds. The bright glow ate into the vampires' (?) face, straight down to the bone. Leaving empty sockets and the smoky scent of cooked flesh in its' wake.

Hendricks finally reached John's side and he pulled the dead weight away from the battle arena that was lit only by the radiance of light from the place that Dresden had come from.

Dresden squared off against the final monster, and then the scene went almost pitch black, before Hendricks' eyes, when the rip in space sealed itself shut again. The only remaining light was below Dresden's face in the soft glow of the pentacle that seemed to be Dresden's form of a religious talisman.

The light cast his eyes into shadow and left Hendricks with the shivery feeling that he knew what death looked like before he was effectively blinded by Dresden's next move.

"Fuego!"

The bellowed word brought an eager flame into existence that wrapped around the last monster as it tried, and failed, to run away. The fire ate through the black flesh like it was so much bubbling fat, bubbling and hissing like bacon before disappearing along with any remnants of the monster.

Near silence returned and when Hendricks' night vision returned he saw Dresden crouching over the final leaving creature.

"Who sent you!"

The vampires charred lips pulled back and he tried to spit in Dresden's face.

Dresden struck it across the face, a flash of metal the only indication that the wizard had used his kinetic rings to add to the force of the blow. The monsters head rocked back on its shoulders, but it still struggled weakly to get away.

"Tell me! Who called for this?"

The monster moved closer to Dresden's face as though he was going to whisper in the wizards' ear, but as soon as it got close enough its' teeth snapped desperately at Dresden's exposed throat.

"Oh, enough of this!"

Dresden threw the now chuckling monster to the ground before reaching forward and with a visible surge of power hissed.

"In vincula conicere."

The creature disappeared in a muted flash of light and Dresden got to his feet, wiping blood and dirt from his knees as he strode over to where Hendricks had Marcone laid out flat in an attempt to keep from jostling the injured man any more than he already was.

"How bad is it?"

Dresden's usually rapid-fire words dragged in an exhausted rasp as though that last bit of magic had drained him of all of his strength.

"Bad. He needs a hospital."

Dresden wiped a shaking hand down his face as he nodded. He leaned in for a moment and pulling aside the tattered cloth looked at the gaping hole in Marcone's side.

"Did the vampire bite him here?"

"Yeah."

"Ah Hell's Bells. Okay look there's a narcotic in the saliva that is more than a little addictive so I know he needs medical attention but we have to get this down his throat first."

Harry pulled a small vial of liquid from one of the deepest pockets of his trench coat.

"Hold his mouth open for me."

Hendricks hesitated for a moment before obeying his boss's lover. So far Dresden seemed to be very knowledgeable about what was going on in the supernatural world and he just had to trust him that little bit further now that the attack was over.

Pulling down Marcone's jaw, Hendricks watched raptly as the lumpy liquid was poured down the lax throat, which had to be massaged into an automatic reflex before it was ingested.

The effect was nearly instantaneous.

The potion raged through Marcone and he began to convulse as it removed any trace of the vampires saliva from his body. Five interminable minutes later John's body stopped as the potion completed its work and left him still unconscious and full of holes but at least free of any of the drugging saliva that the monsters bite had left behind.

Dresden leaned forward and gently stroked a hand down Marcone's clammy cheek before he pulled himself to his feet.

"Okay. I need you to call it in. Technology doesn't work very well around me and we need to get an ambulance here as soon as possible. Call up some of his men. He'll need protection.

Dresden pulled himself away from his lover with obvious reluctance.

"If the Red Court's opening move is this bold I doubt they'll hesitate to attack in front of mundanes. I'll meet you at the hospital once I've ensured I won't knock out any more machinery."

As Dresden walked away new purpose entered his stride and Hendricks heard the faint mutter of Harry's last words before the 911 operator came on the line.

"If it takes the last drop of my magic, I will find out who did this and make them pay."

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

Ten minutes after he had left his lover in the capable hands of Hendricks Harry stepped into the foyer of his mansion. All of the lights had been turned off and Harry knew that all of his servants had gone home for the day.

Harry knew that he should have been having some sort of emotional reaction but all he felt was, cold.

The spreading, numbing chill that past experience had taught him would get him through the coming days, no matter the cost, was something so familiar that it was nearly soothing in its' predictability.

Locking and bolting the front door behind him, Harry moved with purpose towards the stairs that led down to the laboratory.

When the mansion had first been built the original owners had probably used it as a wine cellar, but when Morningway had procured the building after the 'disappearance' of the current owner he had had it gutted.

The laboratory was a long narrow room that had shelves crammed neatly labeled boxes and bottles along with leather bound books without titles covering every spare inch of wall space.

A low-slung table liberally marked with sigils ran down the center of the room with a variety of experiments spread out in clearly demarcated areas.

The table ended a good twenty feet away from the wall furthest from the door. The space was empty, the only thing in it was a large circle embedded in the concrete floor made up of layers of precious metal and iron with still more sigils carved into the band.

Slamming relentlessly against the invisible barrier that had sprung up where the circle lay was the Red Court vampire.

Harry's last spell had sent it here none too gently and although it was still fighting the thing looked like it had gone through a food processor.

In the short amount of time that the vampire had been left to its own devices it had managed to grow back a good portion of the skin that it had lost when Dresden threw the kerchief full of sunlight directly into its' face.

The lack of flesh meant that its eye sockets were still empty holes and Dresden had every intention of pulling the information that he needed from the vampire along with a few internal organs if need be.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Dresden watched the vampire slide away from the sound as far as it could before its back hit the circle again.

Confident that the vampire was too busy trying to escape to interrupt him Harry headed straight towards the only person, well sort of, that he thought could help him.

"Bob!"

Flickering sockets that had been studying the struggles of the vampire with bright glee turned and flared briefly in shock when they landed on the bedraggled visage of Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden's frozen pool of an expression.

"What happened Harry; what'd I miss?"

"Two separate packs of Red Court vampires attacked John and I."

"I take it, that," The skull jerked its chin in the vampires direction, "Is the sole survivor?"

"Yes."

"I'm surprised you let him live this long Harry. Unless." The lights in Bob's eyes flared with happiness. "Have you changed your mind about the libido potion I was telling you about?"

"No. I need your help with three things."

"Okaaaaay?"

"First thing. How do I make that," Harry tilted his head towards the still cowering vampire, "tell me what it knows."

"A potion."

"Which it's just going to drink because it's in such a hurry to help me out?"

"No way Boss. But it looks pretty badly mangled, if you injected the potion into say an animal of some sort instinct will take over and it won't be able help itself."

"You're sure?"

"He's not much more than a fledge Harry, I wouldn't be surprised if Bianca had him turned just for this attack."

"All right, second thing. John was attacked tonight by a pack of Reds and he's in the hospital right now. How can I go and see him without knocking out heart monitors and the like?"

Bob was silent for a moment in thought as he looked critically at his master"

"Your aura's lashing out pretty heavily, if the light bulbs weren't so heavily warded they'd have blown by now. I think it'd take a pretty heavy-duty charm to contain your magic enough that you could go to the hospital. I think, think mind you, that we might be able to convince your pentacle to do the job for a while but we'll have to come up with a more permanent solution."

"How, I don't want to dip it into any sort of potion and I don't think carving anything into the metal is going to do anything except ruin it."

"Right on both counts boss, we don't want to change the pentacle itself. Instead I want to use it as a starting point for a spell that will establish parameters for your magic. It should only take about fifteen minutes."

"Good. Now thirdly, I need to find a way to protect John so that something like this never happens again. He's so damn smooth I forget how strong he isn't sometimes, and that particular failure came back to bite me on the ass tonight."

"Are you talking human shrimpiness in general or are you also talking about the whole age problem."

Dresden's face tightened as he contemplated the possibility of decades possibly centuries without his partner.

"Both."

"That last one is going to be difficult to pull off, Boss."

"I know that Bob. That doesn't change anything."

"All right I'll need to do some research into that. I've had to do things similar to the first two tasks before for previous masters. That last one isn't something I've ever really contemplated before.

"Think hard, Bob."

"Anything for you Boss."

Dresden scooped up Bob's skull and headed towards the nearest potion station, they had a lot of work to do. Dresden put the skull on top of a large candlestick that was wide enough to hold him comfortably. Then he put a small cauldron on top of a small burner that was old enough to work around his magic and he let it heat up.

"Potion first."

"All right well first we're going to need a liquid base and we want the vamp as chatty as possible so I'd say alcohol as the base, Vodka, Tequila, whatever."

"That's the base of a love potion."

"Champagne is the base for a love potion, alcohol of all sorts is the base for a lot of other types of potions."

Harry reluctantly pulled a bottle of wine from a nearby shelf. From the amount of dust on it the bottle might have been original to the house.

"That will do." A skull shouldn't be able to sneer but Bob managed it. "As long as that crap hasn't turned to vinegar yet anyways."

Harry uncorked the bottle with a quick twist of his magic and inhaled deeply.

"Smells like wine to me."

"All right then pour it in and let it bubble while we get the rest of the ingredients."

Bob continued to list off ingredients and Harry would throw them in as instructed. A crushed white Chrysanthemum served as his scent, a finger crossing a heart was touch.

Spirit seemed to stymie Bob as he looked down at the bubbling brew for a couple of moments before his eyes brightened in their sockets.

"Okay spirit, pour in a couple of words that are caught on the tip of the tongue. Bitter ones will work better."

Dresden took a moment pulling down the requisite jar, tossing in words that he had managed to capture from his own tongue. This potion was personal and Harry had every intention of giving the Red Court vampire no recourse but to tell him everything that he wanted to know.

Mind came from the ash of a secret written on a piece of paper. Sound turned out to be the chattering of clacking teeth and taste came from the saliva of a goose. The final ingredient that constituted sight was the single drop of a tear from a betrayed lover.

Dresden pressed enough of his will into the potion that it swirled and eddied for several moments before congealing into a concoction that smelled like rotting flowers.

Decanting the liquid into a large syringe, Harry's smile was vicious.

"Good. Now to have a little Q and A with our latest prisoner."

Bob's jaw gaped open in delight as Harry with a twist of his magic brought a large rat into his hands.

Slipping the potion into its veins was the work of a couple of seconds and then Harry threw the dying rodent into the circle of power that held the young vampire captive.

The vampire froze for a moment desperately struggling against instincts that he barely understood before he broke.

Scenting the air in the circle the vampire managed to grab a hold of the rat without fumbling it, despite his lack of sight.

Less than a minute later the rat's desiccated little body hit the ground with a barely audible crack.

The vampire's mouth gaped a little and his newly regenerated eyes looked at Dresden's approaching form with glazed horror.

"Now. To the truth of the matter."

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

In vincula conicere: Latin for imprisonment

Chrysanthemum: Truth


	2. 2

Harry bounded up the hospital stairs, unwilling even with his magic contained to risk the elevator. His face was a Dorian Gray portrait, all the cares and evils of the day ravaging his usually smooth face.

The fledgling had been less then helpful. Oh it had told him everything that it could but the thing had been made for cannon fodder and he hadn't been able to get much information from it, just enough to back up Toot-Toot's frantic message.

The Red Court and the White Council had joined forces against Marcone and Dresden's enterprises. If Harry had his way they'd all burn for this.

Bob's eyes had gleamed when Harry gave him the fledge. The vampire's eyes had been burning coals once Bob had possessed him. He had strict orders to gather as much info as possible and to be back before dawn.

The fledge was to be left to boil helplessly in the sun.

When Harry finally reached the floor that the nurse at the desk had pointed him towards he strode into the waiting room. Harry saw Hendricks' hulking form crammed into a too small plastic chair that creaked dangerously under his bulk.

Harry's progress towards the bodyguard was halted when a small man in a closely tailored suit planted himself in front of Harry, waving a badge with a condescending waggle.

"Mr. Dresden? Special Agent Johnson. I need to ask you a few questions."

"In a moment Agent Johnson. I need to speak to a nurse first."

"I can see why you would be worried about your business partner but I really need to speak to you first."

Harry crossed his arms across his chest and looked down his nose at the smaller man. No need to make a scene, but he wanted to leave no doubt as to what his feelings on the agent's pushiness were.

"Ask away."

"Where were you at 7:30 this evening?"

"I was in a meeting with Marcone and a mutual client of ours."

"So you saw the attack?"

"No I didn't."

"Mr. Hendricks called the police at 8:00 so you're saying that you left Marcone just in time for him to be assaulted."

"Urgent business came up, I had to leave quickly."

"What was so urgent that you left a business meeting?"

Harry ground his teeth as the questioning continued with no sign of slowing down.

"My offices had been broken into and one of my employees was frantic because some important documents had been stolen."

Johnson's eyebrows shot upwards towards his receding hairline.

"Did you contact the police?"

Harry smiled unpleasantly.

"There was no need. It's being handled internally and none of the papers that were stolen were irreplaceable."

"You just said they were important."

"They are, but I have my employees fill out forms in triplicate and each copy is kept in a different facility."

"Sounds a little paranoid."

"To my benefit it seems."

"We'll get back to that eventually," warned Johnson. "But for right now do you know anybody who would want to cause Mr. Marcone harm?"

Harry's laugh was a jagged noise that tore at his throat.

"Where are you from? Alaska? Marcone's made a metric ton of enemies in the course of his career."

"Just give me the highlights then."

"The Mayor's office, the entire Chicago police department, anyone who lives in Chicago and has more than ten thousand dollars in their bank account."

"Except for you." Johnson pointed out.

Harry gave him an unimpressed sneer.

"So you have no idea who attacked Marcone?"

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"I suppose the fresh black eye and split lip that your sporting have nothing to do with what's going on?"

Harry finally lost patience with the older man and he slid easily around the agent.

"Ran into a door, Agent," Harry threw over his shoulder before stopping in front of Hendricks. "I'm a bit of a klutz."

"So what's the news?"

Hendricks' carefully shimmied out of his chair and regained his feet.

"Boss is in surgery. Their sewing his guts back where they belong, what with the dog bit and everything he was nearly disemboweled. Real troubles with his head, his brain hit the side of his skull. The swelling needs to go own before they can figure out if he's going to wake up or not."

"Mr. Dresden." The insistent voice brought a snarl to Harry's normally passive face for an instant before it was molded into a helpful mask. He turned to look at Johnson again as the man tapped him on the shoulder.

"Yes?"

"We're not finished yet."

Harry glanced over Johnson's head and grimaced.

"I think we are."

"Oh really?" Johnson's head was flung back so he could look straight into Harry's eyes. Harry restrained himself to glaring at the bantam rooster's nose as he drawled, "Yep, you've got bigger problems, so to speak, then me."

"Special Agent Johnson!"

Murphy's voice rang out into the small room. Johnson spun on his heels to face the diminutive figure that was crowding into his personal space with her hands on her hips.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was called in by your captain. He felt that this case was a little beyond your departments purview."

Murphy bristled but Harry couldn't restrain a thin-lipped smile when she kept her distance from him.

"Oh, and you think you can handle this case? You've been in Chicago for less than a month and you want to deal with the two biggest alleged mob bosses in the tri-state area?"

"Watch yourself," Harry growled. "You were ordered by my lawyers and your captain to deal with the problem that you have Marcone and I."

Murphy's smile was sweet venom.

"I said alleged."

Dresden snarled, "Better watch out for this one Agent Johnson. She's liable to lead you astray in her delusional attempt to mar our reputations."

"Not that it would take much." Murphy shot back. "You've both caused pain and problems in this city to require protection from the people's who's lives you've ruined."

"Are you actually implying that Marcone deserved to have his stomach ripped open?"

"I'm saying that I'm surprised that it hasn't happened sooner."

Johnson shook his head in disbelief. "Lieutenant Murphy, you need to leave before I have to have you thrown out."

"I'm leaving. But just as some food for thought, Dresden here, is perfectly capable of having Marcone killed. If Marcone dies Dresden stands to gain full control of both enterprises without having to fight for it."

Murphy slammed into the stairwell with a boom of noise as she stormed off.

A surgeon entered the waiting room when the echo of her exit had died down.

"Mr. Hendricks, Mr. Marcone is out of surgery. He's doing well right now but I don't have enough information to tell you about his head injury and its severity. We'll just have to wait for him to wake up to see the extent of the damage."

Dresden surged forward, "Can I see him? I'm his partner." Harry's fist clenched when the doctor's face slipped into a sneer.

"Do you have any legal relationship with Mr. Marcone?"

"If I was a woman would you ask that?" Harry retorted.

"You have to have a familial or legal relationship with the patient if you want to visit him after visiting hours are over."

Harry drawing on reserves of patience that he had built up when he had lived with his uncle withdrew any outward signs of agitation and his face retracted into a still pool. "Very well. When may I see him?"

"Visiting hours start tomorrow morning at 7:30."

"Thank you." Harry turned to face Johnson again. "I need to meet with some prospective clients this evening so if we could make this quick."

"You don't seem too concerned about finding the people who are responsible for Mr. Marcone's assault."

"I'm sure your very competent at your job."

"Mr. Dresden I looked at the medical files before you got here. They set what looks like a couple of Pit Bulls on him. These are nasty people who will try again. Now I need you to work with me."

"Agent Johnson. I am a nasty person in my own right. Marcone is perfectly capable of protecting himself under normal circumstances. Now that we know someone is after us we'll be ready if they try again."

"You might be ready, but what if Mr. Marcone doesn't wake up?"

Harry lunged forwards and shoved Johnson into a wall with enough force to dent the plaster.

"Then I will expect you to find and arrest every living person that was involved in this crime."

Johnson tried to draw air back into his body that had been knocked out from the force of Dresden's shove. When he finally managed it Dresden had already swept out of the room, his duster billowing around his legs.

"Which begs the question," Johnson muttered. "Of how many I'm going to have to put into body bags."

Hendricks' chuckled darkly and Johnson turned to look at the bodyguard.

"What?"

"You're cute. You think you'll find bodies."

Hendricks settled back into his chair and pulled a small book seemingly out of thin air as he sat back and waited for more news on Marcone.

Johnson wasn't a stupid man and he figured asking an apparent ex-linebacker why he was reading Nietzsche was on a top ten list of boneheaded moves somewhere and he headed out the door to go and look over the files that the FBI had on Dresden and Marcone.

He'd skimmed them before he'd come to the hospital but he'd wanted to make sure that he hadn't missed any of Marcone's visitors and hadn't read them as thoroughly as he could have.

It was sure to be interesting reading.


	3. Chapter 3

John could hear the steady beeping that meant he was in the hospital as though he had an ear pressed to a thick door. There was a fog surrounding his mind, making it hard to think.

When he finally thought about moving it became clear that it was impossible. Fighting hard John tried to open his eyes; failed. No matter how hard he tried nothing worked. His muscles were held in place by thick layers of air.

Why was he here?

Suddenly somebody wrapped a hand gently around his chin, and if he could have John would have startled badly. He could feel somebody open his eyes, but everything remained black.

This stranger studied his body quickly. A nurse? Everything was quiet except for the machinery that surrounded him when a familiar voice sliced through the fog shrilly.

"Is he going to wake-up?"

Lieutenant Murphy. John fought again to pull his body out of the morass of drugs and bamboozled brain. Failed.

"We have no way of knowing until the swelling goes down."

"Can he hear us?"

"I doubt it. The combination of the blow to the head plus the drugs we have him on are probably keeping him completely under."

John gave a mental snort of disdain, much she knew. A blow to the head explained why he couldn't remember what had happened. The last thing he remembered was leaving the meeting with Hendricks.

Suddenly an alarm blared through the halls of the hospital and the nurse bolted from the room. Leaving Marcone alone with Murphy.

Plastic creaked, and Marcone pictured Murphy slipping into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs that were usually by hospital beds.

Where was Harry?

Murphy broke the silence with a rough chuckle.

"So here we are. I could kill you here and now and they'd all think that you'd just succumbed to the blow to the head."

"Lieutenant Murphy!"

The new voice was a stranger's. Pitched low but with a slight quaver, he made the two words sound like a condemnation.

"I thought I told you to leave."

"Screw you Johnson! I've had to deal with these two monsters for the past six years. Things have only gotten worse now that they've teamed up and started fucking each other."

"You obviously don't have the emotional distance you'd need to participate in this case. Right here and now, Marcone is the victim."

Murphy snorted rudely.

"And!" continued Johnson doggedly. "He should be treated as such."

"Whoever did this," Murphy snarled. "Did us a favor! We'd never be able to stick it to Marcone in court. He's too much of a snake oil salesman to ever get caught in his own shit. But now he's finally pushed somebody too far and they sent their dogs after him. More power to them!"

Johnson's voice had lost its reedy quaver and was quickly turning into a reasonable facsimile of a threatening snarl.

"Not half an hour ago you were berating me about Dresden. Telling me that I should look closely into what he's been up to. Telling me that if anybody would stoop to attack Marcone it would be Dresden. What the hell's changed?"

Plastic creaked again, before clattering to the ground as Murphy apparently launched herself out of her seat.

"Everybody wants to kill these guys. There are a hundred possibilities!"

"Yourself included," Johnson said harshly, "and if you don't want to end up without a badge and behind bars you'd best do some serious thinking about continuing to interfere in this investigation."

"You both need to leave. At the volume you're screaming it wouldn't matter if Mr. Marcone was dead, you'd still wake him!"

The nurse's voice was back. Whatever emergency had flung her away had apparently been sorted out.

As three pairs of feet slapped out of the room on the linoleum floors Marcone let himself slip back into the drugged slumber that had been trying to drag him back to unconsciousness for a little while.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

Hendricks had been more than willing to wait in the small room. He had a direct line of sight to the door that led into Marcone's hospital room through a glass window that he could break easily.

He might have been skimming over Nietzsche but he'd read the book enough times that he had only a small portion of his attention focused on it.

When he saw Murphy go through the door and enter Marcone's room he pulled himself to his feet and shuffled over towards her. If she wanted to start something he'd seriously contemplate throwing her out the fifth story window.

The nurse left in a rush as a sudden Code Blue sounded throughout the ICU and Hendricks reached towards the door handle.

But he didn't have a chance to go through the door before Agent Johnson waved him back like he was a recalcitrant toddler.

Hendricks had to restrain the snarl that wanted to erupt on his face. They argued briefly and heatedly and when the nurse finally returned, Hendricks' head was lowered like a battering ram and he was ready to charge the door if he had to.

This time it was the nurse that waved him away, although her gesture lacked the condescension that Agent Johnson's finger flick had held.

Humiliation burned through Hendricks. The only reason Marcone was alive. Hell the only reason he was alive was because of Dresden's sudden arrival at the scene of the crime. The assault had been so unexpected that he hadn't had the chance to think through what had happened.

Marcone had been hurt, on his watch. The anger that had blurred his vision and made his hands turn into frozen locks on his gun had died enough that he could remember what had happened more clearly.

The red and white colors that hadn't made any sense had to be the Red Court and the White Council. It had been years since Hendricks' had heard about either of them and the half-heard whisper from the small fairy had failed to jog his memory.

He hadn't known what the Red Court vampires looked like. But he was quite sure that Marcone and Dresden had both said that the main group that used to reside in Chicago worked as expensive prostitutes.

Hendricks hoped that the magic that the Red Courts used to hide their true forms was good enough that they didn't have to use some kind of Mind-fu to keep their clients happy.

The black bat-like creatures had been far from what he had expected, although it was nice to know that sometimes monsters looked like monsters and not like everybody else.

Still he'd been sure that Harry had run those assholes clear out of the state. The White Council had been gone even longer than that, blackmailed and thrashed into submission by Dresden's forces.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

When Harry flung the beaker against the wall he watched it shatter with vicious satisfaction. He'd been desperately trying to finagle a potion into existence that even Bob had only heard rumors about.

Five hours of fruitless labor had frayed his already tenuous control to the breaking point. At this point, Harry wanted to go findMurphy so that she could say something derogatory about his relationship with Marcone, if only so he could turn her into ash.

"Harry." Bob's voice was filled with resigned reproach.

"I got rid of them Bob. I told them to pack their fucking bags and to get the hell out of my city." Snarled Harry. "And what do they do? They go to the fucking White Council and join forces with people they'd just as soon eat as look at."

"Harry, this isn't your fault."

"It is. I knew I was being too soft. I should have killed them all."

"The decision to keep the White Council alive had nothing to do with softness and everything to do with practicality. You know as well as I that if you had killed the entire ruling council that we would have had a world war on our hands. You might have come out on top, but it was too big of a risk. You still need to strengthen your powerbase."

Harry snarled and began to pace, "Shows what you know, we're months away from gaining control of Illinois, I expect I'll have America in the next five years or so. Why couldn't they have just stayed the hell away from this continent?"

"Because," Bob said quietly, "they're a gaggle of old men who haven't been successfully challenged in decades. When you stood up to them, and succeeded, they had their egotistical little minds blown."

Harry dropped into a nearby chair and put his face into his hands while he desperately tried to scrub his eyes hard enough to force back the tears of frustration that were starting to appear. Pulling himself back together again Harry cleared his throat and changed the subject.

"This is pointless. Where's the original recipe for this potion?"

"In a Grimoire." Bob said, easily shifting to the new train of thought. "Last I heard a member of the White Council had it unfortunately."

Harry's sudden smile was thin and needle sharp.

"Which member?"


	4. Chapter 4

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONE

The small house seemed to have been plopped down in the middle of nowhere. It slouched unceremoniously in the dip that was created between hills that protected it from all sides. Harry sneered as he caught sight of the lace-infested curtains that blew out of the open windows; it was twee enough to make any respectable city-dweller vomit.

Harry had met all of the Council members at one point or another; although generally he had met them on his own turf, blackmail material in hand. Not this one though. Blackstaff McCoy was someone that he hadn't been able to dig up anything on. Not that that meant much. Historically Blackstaff's had always had more freedom than anyone else to participate in black magic of varying shades.

Harry could feel the blood wards that stretched around the house from the hill that he was standing on, protected by one of his best invisibility potions. He generally wasn't a man who considered stealth a common tactic so when he was forced to it Harry had Bob's help to whip up something helpful.

The blood wards were almost as powerful as the ones that were wrapped around his own manor and the threshold that Harry could feel from where he was, were considerably more powerful than his own.

Harry could see McCoy walking through his house passing various windows and he unconsciously tightened his hands into fists. Seeing a member of a White Council after so many years brought Harry back to those days when he still had to cower in fear that one of them would find out how he bent, twisted, and broke the rules of magic that kept everyone except for themselves chained up like so many flea bitten curs.

Harry hated every single one of them, for their hypocrisy and now for the part that they had played in John's injuries. Since they just couldn't leave Chicago alone Harry figured now was as the perfect time to start picking them off. The fact that the Blackstaff had this particular Grimoire just put him at the top of the list.

Harry had stepped out of the Never Never less than a mile from the house that he was standing in front of now. The problem now was that even though Harry knew that he was strong enough to take on McCoy if they were anywhere else, here on the Blackstaff's home turf he didn't stand a chance without a considerably larger force than just himself.

But after a nerve-wracking hour wait Harry saw the older man answer his phone briefly, before slamming it back into it's cradle and rushing out of his house climbing into a nearly completely rusted over truck.

Toot Toot had assured him that the problem of getting the wizard out of his house would be taken care of as long as the fairies responsible were given twelve cheese pizzas before and after the event. Dewdrop fairies were always easy to repay and Harry had had no problem giving his permission. Seems the little creatures had come through for him once again.

Slipping towards the now, hopefully, empty house Harry tried to pick his way through grass that was so thickly matted that it caught on his pants in knots of resistance.

His movement through the tall grass also stirred up unwelcome guests as swarms of insects swirled around him buzzing furiously.

"Hate this." Harry muttered finally breaking his self-imposed silence. "Goddamn bugs everywhere." He swatted angrily at an ear as another mosquito buzzed by.

Only after he felt the fleshy impact and the sharp sting of pain did Harry realize that it was not in fact a mosquito.

The hornet buzzed angrily as it fought to pull its stinger out of his flesh and only after a couple of moments of mad flailing (that Harry would deny to his fucking dying day) did Harry finally lose patience with removing the insect.

"Nunc Morere."

The result was instantaneous. All of the insects within ten feet of the glowering man dropped from the sky, the smaller insects disappeared with tiny pops into bits of dust.

Shaking clear of the dead insects Dresden finally set foot on the gravel driveway that led up to the house. The loose rocks shifted under his too thin leather shoes but Harry forced himself to take his time.

Snapping open his third eye felt like glaring directly into a blue sun. The house and grounds were all layered with protections. The only reason he had managed to get this far without setting anything off was because the protections had focused mainly on the area around the house and yard.

The driveway was littered with salt and iron and Harry could feel the slow looming magical presence, as he got closer to the small ranch house.

Creeping towards a window, he eyed the threshold doubtfully as he tried to see a way to get around its' protection. The window was opened invitingly, with that stupid curtain dragged out of it and fluttering invitingly. But it was a honey trap.

The threshold that stood between Harry and entering the house was strong enough to rip a goodly portion of his magic away from him if he tried to enter uninvited.

Gonna have to risk it. There's not enough time. If something happens to John because I took too long…

Harry didn't let himself finish that thought.

Completely aside from the fairly strong threshold, Harry could see the glowing runes of a truly formidable set of wards that he would have a hell of a time getting through without setting off or destroying.

Well truth be told he wouldn't mind destroying them but hurting the Grimoire was not an option and he had no idea where in the house it might be.

With painstaking care Harry carefully looked at the runes that were protecting the house, stalking the perimeter as he studied how all of the runes fit together to make the impressive whole that stood before him.

"Hell's Bell's. Locked up tighter than a virgin's ass and me without my magical lube what's a guy to do?"

Moving the rues was painstaking work. Harry had to keep from setting any of them off while gently persuading them that they wanted to move to the side. Convincing them that the closer they were to each other the more secure the house would be.

Magic had a sot of simple intelligence that understood what it was supposed to do. Harry was particularly adept at tricking other people's magic into believing that it was going to work better if it followed his directions. The runes finally moved in a slow slide.

The only reason that Harry Dresden had made it to where he currently stood in society and in his current profession was because of his ability to change course; whether that was his course or someone else's.

He could twist and turn everything until it suited his needs given enough time; if he was short on time, brute force and ingenuity filled in the gaps.

Harry gently maneuvered the runes that created bars up and down the house, essentially stretching the magical dead zone between them and creating a spot that he could slip through without setting off any of the nastier surprises that undoubtedly were waiting to trip up the unwary.

The scramble through the open window was not graceful and Harry was grateful there was nobody around to see the ungainly sprawl that he landed in on the other side of the window.

His breath and magic leaving him with a pained gasp, Harry forced himself to his feet even though he felt as though he had left a couple of important limbs behind. Working without his magic was going to be a bitch, but he was running out of time.

Slipping through the house, Harry felt uncomfortably confined. Shelves of knick-knacks lined every wall and the ratty couches were covered in flannel blankets that clung to the Harry's trousers stubbornly. Harry jerked away from the rough fabric irritably looking for any sign of a door that might lead to the Blackstaff's laboratory.

Harry's third eye was still open and he began to scan the room for sign of magical disturbance or extra protections. He nearly stepped right past the door because it was unobtrusive. The small door looked just like the rest of the doors no reason to think that it led anywhere except to a closet. But the low thrum along Harry's nerves made him stop in his tracks when he nearly passed it by.

Harry's impatience finally got the better of him, not seeing any sort of runes on the door he grabbed the handle and tried to turn it open.

That was when the trap snapped shut.

The room blazed with light and Harry flung himself towards the still open window, but before he could reach it the runes that had surrounded the house closed in on him until he was trapped in the living room with no way to get to window or door.

When he tried to shoulder aside the runes using brute magical force the backlash was like a punch to the face. Still hobbled because of the threshold Harry couldn't gather the strength needed to blast apart the runes and when pacing the perimeter of his new prison turned up nothing to assist him Harry withdrew as far as he could into the corner furthest from the front door.

Crouching down, Harry tried to keep his breathing deep but as he heard the distinct rumble of the Blackstaff's truck he was taking quick shallow breaths that were sending him directly towards a panic attack.

When McCoy stepped through the front door, he looked vaguely murderous and when he caught sight of Harry it only intensified.

"Well, well." McCoy snarled. "What do we have here? Harry Dresden, murderer, rapist, mobster, and now petty thief?"

Harry snarled right back. "Come on old man, what are you waiting for? You've finally got me helpless so do your thing Blackstaff."

McCoy stepped closer easily sliding between the runic bars and which stretched to let him through. He opened his mouth to say something, but the instant that the Blackstaff stepped foot inside of the wards that created a roach motel around his living room Dresden was on him. Leading with a muscled shoulder, Harry hit the older man in the gut and drove him back into a runic wall.

When it came to fighting high-powered wizards, Dresden had a distinct edge. Magic might have kept them thin but in general wizards didn't fight with their bodies and relied solely on their magical strength. Brutal past experience had taught Harry that his magic wasn't always reliable. One of the reasons that Dresden had cut a bloody swathe to the top of the food chain in Chicago was because he wasn't afraid to make a fight physical.

The Blackstaff managed to scramble sideways chest heaving as he tried to move his stunned diaphragm. He flung a powerful curse at Dresden that hit the magically treated leather and sliced through it like it was so much room temperature butter.

Harry grunted in pain but he refused to back down, he felt the sickening slip of blood sliding down his side in rivulets as he fought to keep ahead of the magic that was being flung at him, throwing punches and kicks whenever he could to try and knock out the older man.

But the older man was a capable fighter as well and he managed to dodge or shrug off most of the blows that Harry laid on him and after watching Dresden for several moments to see what his next move was going to be managed to get ahead of him and hit him with a final spell that brought Harry down to his knees.

The magical chains bound Harry to the floor in a humiliating crouch, wrapping around both his wrists and ankles.

McCoy watched with detached interest as Dresden fought against the chains, which followed his every move. He had met Dresden years ago and seen the same thing that the rest of the world had seen. He saw nothing to change his mind now.

"You're a bully Harry, "McCoy growled, "and a coward. So those chains that are around your flesh are going to bring everything that you've been hiding to the surface so we can all see what you really are."

Dresden had only been in is early twenties at the time but even then Ebenezer could feel the force of the power that rolled off of the younger wizard. The cold sneering expression mimicked his uncle's perfectly and they seemed to be two men struck from the same mold, intent on power for the sake of power and nothing more.

Harry ignored the Blackstaff's voice, as he fought against the chains mindlessly, low whimpers erupting from his mouth without volition or thought. He fought the chains and he kept his back as far away from McCoy as he could. The straining fight was tearing his wrists leaving them ringed in dangling threads of skin.

Harry writhed desperately as the older man stepped closer. Old memories launching themselves from the darkness of his subconscious, memories that he had tried to tuck away and forget. Memories of another older man, another set of magical handcuffs and the helplessness that he had sworn to himself that he would never allow himself to feel again.

McCoy stepped even closer and saw something die inside of the younger man, all of the light went out of the vicious face and only an expressionless mask was left in its place and Harry quit struggling.

All those years ago McCoy had seen another Morningway in the making, here and now though McCoy saw something else. Power for the sake of power was one thing; power for the sake of not being weak was something else.

Dresden watched him step closer and closer with dead eyes.

"What do you want Mr. Dresden? If you had wanted my death I do believe you could have accomplished the task without ever having to enter my home. If you wanted blackmail material I can assure you there is very little that the Council does not know about me. What could possibly make you risk all of your hard effort to keep the Council, including myself, away from Chicago? So why are you here?"

Harry turned his head away and studied the carpet underneath his feet. Refusing to answer.

McCoy reached forward and Harry let him grab his face. Ebenezer could feel the skin shivering underneath his palm as Harry tried to hide himself inside of his own mind.

"You will tell me eventually boy."

The term brought Harry's head around viper fast and he lunged towards the older man reaching out with hands curled into claws as he desperately tried to get hold of McCoy who managed to scramble backwards just in time.

"I'll kill you." Harry's voice was high pitched and broken. "I'll kill all of you. I know what you did. I know what you are. All of you just like him and I'll kill all of you too. Watch me. Watch me." Harry struggled and fought again but this time he tried to drag himself closer and closer to McCoy.

"What did we do Harry?"

"No. No." snarled Dresden. "We mustn't speak of the big nasty thing because it's all your fault pretty boy, pretty ragdoll. You just stay there like a good little boy would and then we'll take everything from you. Suck harder pretty boy. Be good boy or we'll cut them off. Wouldn't that be the worst since you enjoy it so much pretty boy."

McCoy recoiled as the Harry's voice switched from high pitched to a faux Morningway and then a perfect imitation of the Merlin's voice as though repeating what they said in singsong would change the message.

"But I got away didn't I Blackstaff?" Harry spit, tone changing again to a deep chainsaw whir. " I got away and I got all of you to go away. All I ever wanted Blackstaff, a world without the White Council, because they're not white and you're not white and you're all stained with the blood of the innocent so it's only right that you teamed up with the Red Court. Only right that they tried to take him away because they always get what they want. Not this time though oh no no no. Not this time."

"Harry," McCoy repeated firmly "Why did you come here?"

"Because you have what I want; and now that I am me and not boy I take what I want from you!"

"I thought you said that you had everything that you wanted?"

"But you took him away from me Blackstaff, you and the White Council and the Red Court all of you took him away from me."

"Marcone's dead?"

"Not yet, no thanks to the Council. Deal with the Red devil's because you think you know them, but you don't know the gentleman and you don't know me."

McCoy's eyes widened in sudden realization,

"You came for the Grimoire."

"I had to." Whimpered Harry. "Bob said it would save him. He's the only thing worth anything. The rest of the world can burn. But not him, please not him. Please don't hurt him." Harry's eyes glazed with the powerful magic that was releasing all of his pent up memories and emotions gleamed with a sudden sly cunning.

"I know what you really want." Harry's voice dropped to a ragged purr and he started to wriggle free of his trousers. "I'll be so good for you Blackstaff. I'll make you so happy. Please don't hurt him."

Ebenezer's hands gently stopped Harry's from completing their attempts to pull down the trousers, but too late he was already exposed. Harry leaned forward and rubbed enticingly against the older man, his penis small and flaccid against his thigh but he still tried to woo the older man closer with warm hands and mouth.

"No Harry. Aperire." The chains fell gently to the floor before disappearing completely. The runes shrunk back towards the wall and Harry Dresden fell to the floor in a dead faint as he was released from his magically altered state.

McCoy gently ruffled the long dark hair away from the pale face and seeing just how young the man before him truly was. The older man managed to pull Dresden up onto a nearby couch and covered him with the warm scratchy flannel.


	5. 5

Important A/N Please Read!

FYI guys if you haven't read my profile you might not know something about this series and its author. I haven't read all of the books. The last full story that I read and enjoyed was 'White Night'. So while I've had a couple of people commenting on the fact that McCoy is Dresden's grandfather and wanting to know what I was going to do with that. As far as this story goes, the short answer is, nothing. I had no idea about the family connection and while it is an interesting idea I prefer to keep McCoy as a mentor and not as a family member. Another thing I did, which is actually kind of embarrassing, was that I said that Morningway was Harry's uncle while in the books he's just a guardian. I must have gotten the TV Show and the books confused on this one point and for that I apologize but just consider it another portion of the story that is AU.

End A/N

HARRYMARCONEHARRYMARCONEHARR YMARCONE

Harry's eyes opened in baleful slits as sunlight struck him full in the face. Well the portion of his face that wasn't buried in the smoky flannel that he had burrowed under at some point.

The hell? Oh.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut again and contemplated hiding another murder. This one would be much more difficult but perhaps if he…

"Harry?"

Harry couldn't stop himself from scrambling away from the too near voice; the flannel wrapped in twists around his legs made it a difficult proposition.

McCoy watched Harry quietly as he waited for the younger man to regain his composure.

The snarl that contorted Harry's face turned it into a vicious mask that McCoy was finally able to look past as he studied the man that he had long given up hope on.

The lean face that stared up challengingly at him held aspects of both his mother and his father. The too sharp cheekbones came directly from his mother, while the broad jaw and dark eyes could only have come from his father's side of the family.

The hatred that McCoy saw blazing in Harry's eyes though was all his own.

The knowledge that he had unknowingly let such abuse happen to the young Morningway scion made his gut twist and churn uncomfortably only years of experience letting him hide that feeling away from the world.

"Come to bring me to my knee's again Blackstaff?"

Harry's eyes nearly glowed as he watched the older man carefully. He didn't bother trying to stand; the wards around the house were as powerful as ever and he didn't think he had the stamina to deal with another physical confrontation.

The magic that had reached into his mind and wrenched out his oldest and darkest memories had felt like tiny grasping little fingers digging into his memories with sharp claws and throwing them out of his mouth against his will. He never wanted to have to deal with that feeling ever again.

"No." McCoy held something out to Dresden.

Harry's eyes widened as he caught sight of the book that McCoy was clutching in his right hand.

The Grimoire.

Harry reached towards the book with eager fingers, but when McCoy pulled back he recoiled as though stung.

Of course he wouldn't just give you the goddamned book. Harry eyed the older man with deepening distrust. What would he have to give up to get that fucking Grimoire?

"I need your word."

"As what? A gentleman?" Harry scoffed.

"As a wizard of integrity and honesty."

"I'm afraid that is slightly beyond my purview. What with my being a…What was it that you called me? Ah. A murderer, a rapist, and a mobster."

"Well," McCoy responded dryly "Two out of three is still a fairly good average when accusing a man of crimes after he broke into your home."

"Make no mistake McCoy, I am all that you accused me of. However if you require a pact on my part to ensure my very best behavior; I would be willing to do so."

McCoy studied the younger man thoughtfully. The hatred had burned out of his eyes leaving nothing but ash and the occasional flaring ember to remind him of what the man before him was capable of doing.

For the magical world pacts were different from giving someone your word. If a wizard gave his word both the spirit and the letter of the word had to be followed or horrific consequences would ensue. A pact on the other hand had to be very carefully stated because if a magical being, wizard or otherwise, figured out how to work around it they were free and clear to do so.

"Very well then Dresden. A pact. I Ebenezer McCoy, assert that this pact should be made."

"I Harry Dresden, agree that this pact should be made."

"After the completion of three spells pulled from The Grimoire of Abramelin the Mage, Harry Dresden will use no other spells that he has found in this Grimoire, unless I allow it, for the rest of his existence. He will return it to I Ebenezer McCoy as soon as is feasibly possible after the completion of the third spell."

Harry's eyes widened at the leniency of the pact and he quickly spoke up as though afraid that McCoy would add addendums to the gently phrased spell.

"As was agreed I will obey this pact for all of my existence and should I stray from its' path I agree that my magic is forfeit."

Harry could feel the wave of magic that exited both of them and bound together, for a moment leaving the air feeling heavy and too warm before dissipating gently.

"Why didn't you ask for more?" Harry's voice was subdued as he stared at the older man, eyes unsure and the softest that McCoy had ever seen them.

McCoy sighed deeply as he studied the young wizard in front of him. One whose power and influence on the world in which they lived had only begun.

"Because Harry you are a good man. Or at least you will be given the opportunity. This is your opportunity. Do not squander it."

Once again McCoy held out the Grimoire to the younger man, and this time didn't pull back when Harry reached for it.

Dresden grabbed the book from McCoy's fingers as quickly as he could and loped to the door as quickly as he could manage, feeling the wards releasing him from his prison as he stepped towards the threshold.

"Oh and kid."

Harry turned toward McCoy warily. The elderly man had turned to face him, his face burning with its own form of fire and his lips drawing back into a fearsome smile.

"Make sure they burn."

Harry's face lit up with unholy glee as he turned and left the house.

"To ashes, Blackstaff. To ashes."

JOHNDRESDENJOHNDRESDENJOHNDR ESDENJOHNDRESDEN

Harry strode the sterile hospital scene once more. A small satchel lay bulging on his side as he swept through the hallways like a breaking storm.

When he stepped into the private room that housed his lover the first thing that he saw was Murphy leaning over the metal railing of Marcone's bed and trying to clip a piece of hair from the back of his head.

Eyes scanning his lover Harry picked out the stained fingers that meant Marcone had been fingerprinted as well. Gently placing the satchel next to the visitor's chair, Harry crossed the room in three ground eating strides. He struck Murphy across the face with the back of his hand sending her tumbling to the ground with a thud.

"Not the brightest bitch in the box, are you?"

Murphy gingerly wiped her face, her arm coming away with a smear of red on it from the slow trickle that was starting to come out of her nose from the force of the blow.

"You just assaulted a police officer. I'm sure you'll have an interesting time explaining that to the judge."

"Don't make me laugh Lieutenant. Taking fingerprints and hair from a man in a coma is more of an assault than anything I've done to you. I don't know what you thought you were going to accomplish but I promise it stops here."

Pulling a lighter from his pocket Harry picked up the pieces of paper that had his lover's fingerprints and lit them on fire. The scissors were crushed underneath one of his booted feet and tossed into the nearest trashcan.

"Hey!"

"Get lost. I'm amazed Hendricks' hasn't kicked your ass to the curb before this."

Murphy smirked briefly before she got to her feet and headed towards the door.

Right before she left she threw a comment over her shoulder that made Dresden growl with frustration.

"You've been missing for over a day Dresden obviously you're out of the loop. Hendricks' had to go to the police station; the FBI's looking at him as a prime suspect. They'll be by to see you next. I'll make sure of it."

That woman. She…she… Someday he really was going to have the pleasure of killing her.

"Uh Boss I hate to cut whatever fume fest you're having short but if she's telling the truth we might want to start the ritual now."

Shaking free of the red that had started to engulf his vision, Harry picked up the bag he had brought in with him and pulled Bob and the Grimoire free of its' confines. He put Bob on the chair so he'd have a clear view of the room and placed the Grimoire in front of the skull so that the air spirit could have a good view of it.

"Fine, death and dismemberment later, spell casting now. But first."

Harry walked up to the closed door and gently clasped its handle. Putting a small amount of magical pressure into it ensured that whoever tried to open the door would be met with a red-hot handle and a locked one at that.

"All right, let's begin."

The stiff leather pages of the Grimoire parted easily and it only took a couple of moments for Bob to tell him to stop turning.

"This would be a hell of a lot easier if I could read Old English."

"You sure about this boss? I mean this thing's non-reversible and Marcone might have something to say about you making this decision for him."

"And if I don't do this there's a good chance that Marcone won't have an opinion, ever again. About anything."

"…"

"Now, what's first?"

"A ring of unbroken salt around both of you."

Harry pulled the large canister of salt free of the bag and untwisted its' lid, only to be stymied by the hospital beds close relationship with the wall.

Teeth pressed into a taut line, Dresden's eyes flicked from the machine that was steadily bleeping along with Marcone's heart and the magically padlocked door.

This would have to be quick.

Pulling his pentagram off, Dresden allowed his magic free reign in the small room. The lights were the first to go, they blew in a shower of sparks that left the room only dimly lit by the sun that peeked in through the closed blinds. The wall clock stopped ticking without fanfare. The machine that kept track of Marcone's heartbeat wasn't so lucky. For a couple of instants it rang out every alarm that it was capable of before breaking off with a sharp squeal. Black smoke erupted from its' interior smelling strongly of burnt plastic.

As Dresden picked up his lover as well as a pillow he heard the pounding feet that meant that the nurses were on their way. When he had the pillow situated where he wanted it Harry gently set John down, cradling his head in the soft foam.

The handle turned uselessly on the door; followed by a yelp of pain. The nurse didn't give up though and almost immediately Harry heard the nurse pounding on door.

"Sir! Sir, are you all right in there?"

No time.

The salt went down in a lopsided, but unbroken ring around both of them and Dresden turned to Bob for his next instructions.

"Next bits going to be kind of tricky. You need to mix your auras together as closely as you can. Skin to skin contact would be best, so I suggest taking off your tops and cuddling up."

Harry ripped off shirt, ignoring the flying buttons before quickly reaching beneath Marcone to untie the strings of the hospital gown that he had been dressed in. Dresden desperately tried to steer clear of the bandages that were wrapped around his lovers' chest.

Pulling the chilled shoulder blades into close contact with his chest, Dresden allowed himself a moment to just ground himself in his lover's scent, burying his face in the bristling buzz cut of black and gray hair before he turned towards Bob again and waited for his next set of instructions.

Harry's magic had instantly become less of a maelstrom as he had wound himself around his lover, it probed gently at the usually receptive aura that pulsed steadily around John Marcone's body giving him a presence that could always be felt by anyone he came into contact with, be they magical or mundane.

This time was no different. The two auras swirled around the lovers in an ecstatic union.

"What the hell do you mean you can't open the fucking door?" The wooden door barely even muffled the ill-tempered roar.

Oh good, Murphy was back. This could only end well.

"So get the fucking fire axe. There are people who want this man dead it's not like we can just leave him in there unprotected with one of the men that's on the suspect list."

"Bob!"

"Right last bit. You've got to slit his left wrist and your right, doesn't matter which order and then you'll drink down some of his blood and he'll drink down some of yours. Once that's done just intone the incantation three times and voila you've gone and done it."

"What's the incantation?"

"You'll know it after you drink the blood, maybe."

"And if I don't know?"

"You're not compatible enough with each other and you've pissed off a lot of nurses and cops for no good reason."

"Great."

"What can I say? It's all about soul mates, and destiny, so it's bound to be a little wibbly wobbly on the whole outcome thing. So go on. Drink vampiric Santa drink. No one wants a skinny Santa."

"You're a fucking maniac."

"I always take on my master's most charming characteristics."

An alarming slamming thud at the door brought Harry back to the problem at hand and he managed to slice an oozing wound in their respective wrists with the small switchblade that he kept in his coat pocket. He quickly brought Marcone's wrist up to his lips and began to suckle on it as quickly as he could. Fighting to restrain his gag reflex as the coppery blood filled his mouth like sucking on a bright new penny.

After he had drank what felt like a gallon of the red stuff, Dresden pulled back as his magic began to react violently to the influx of the older man's aura into his own body.

Bringing up his wrist, Harry had to gently pull open Marcone's mouth before he clenched his fist. The tendons of his wrist flexed and twisted and the skin gaped around the wound breaking up any clotting that had taken place during his unorthodox drink.

Marcone's lax mouth filled with blood and for a moment Dresden was afraid that John's automatic reflexes would fail to kick in. But then miracle of miracles, Harry saw the muscles in John's throat convulse as he swallowed down the thick liquid.

As the last drop of blood went down Marcone's throat the previously comatose man's eyes flung themselves wide open.

The money green eyes seemed to glow and darken until the only green that could be seen was so dark as to be almost black as they met Harry's he could feel the words well up inside of him.

"Vivemus. Amamus. Semper."

John's back arched and Dresden winced as he heard joints crackle and shift.

"Vivemus. Amamus. Semper."

A wood-splintering crack seemed to shake the room and Dresden could see the sharp edge of the axe as it crashed through the surprisingly solid door. As he opened his mouth to say the last line of the incantation he heard the low baritone of Marcone's joining him.

"Vivemus. Amamus. Semper."

As the door finally gave way with a tremendous crash Gentleman Johnny Marcone pulled himself to his feet and casually wiping a stray line of blood off of his chin met the stunned eyes of Lieutenant Karen Murphy calmly.

"Is there a problem Lieutenant?"

The only thing a bare-chested and still blood stained Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden could do was sit on the floor and laugh and laugh.

HARRYMARCONEHARRYMARCONEHARR YMARCONEHARRY

Chapter Notes AKA Thoughts

Jeez maybe I should just call this chapter 'The Eyes Have It." Considering how focused I was on them this chapter.

Look it's not that I hate women. I happen to be one so that would be counterproductive. I do however intensely dislike Murphy. No joke. She's rotten to Harry in the books so I feel like being rotten to her here in my version of their world.

Ooh BTW I have little to no experience with hospitals and illness but I do realize that Marcone would have been hooked up to other things, not just that one machine. But this is fantasy and fantasy don't need no stinking pee bags or adult diapers you hear me!? Or saline drips. Or liquid medicine…you get the idea.

Everyone's seen 'Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer' right? The animated one with the elf that wants to be a dentist, uh if not the whole Santa line may not be as familiar as I might have hoped.

Translation of the Latin is roughly: 'We live. We love. Forever.'


	6. 6

Title: Overcome (6/6)   
Rating: NC-17   
Warnings: Violence (lots of it), cursing and nonconsensual possession just kind of happened in this chapter. Wholesale slaughter happens as well. I don’t know what got in to me.    
Relationships: Harry Dresden/John Marcone   
Characters: Harry Dresden, Karen Murphy, John Marcone, Morgan, Bob the Skull, various nameless OC’s, Anastasia Luccio (kinda sorta).  
Summary: When enemies from Harry’s past attack John, it pushes him over the edge. Harry’s had enough of pretending to be anything other than what he is and, Court or Council, someone is going to pay.  
Part of my Dresden AU Series. This story comes after Monsters.

A/N

Uh okay so this chapter is kind of actiony and I’m not sure how well I pulled it off but here’s hoping you guys like it. I think after this I’m going to stick to one-shots for a while. Seriously, this multi-chapter thing is stressful.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONEDRESDEN

Marcone strode easily towards the shell-shocked group that stood in the threshold of the small hospital room. Their attention completely fixed on the miraculous awakening of the comatose man the only reason that Dresden was able to shove both The Grimoire and Bob back into the small bag that he had carried them into the room with. 

The salt would be hard enough to explain he seriously didn’t want to have to get either his oldest friend or his newest treasure out of city lock up. 

Turning his attention back towards the doorway, Harry saw Marcone’s usually graceful stride falter. Even a spell as powerful as the one that he had used couldn’t heal everything all at once. They would have to wait and see what the ultimate effects of the spell were. 

It was bound to be interesting. 

Dresden barely had enough time to shove the tote into Marcone’s arms before he was dragged away from the salt circle by the surprisingly strong grip that Murphy had on his arm.

“It might not be murder, but I am damn sure that for this stunt you’ll get your just desserts.” Murphy hissed as she tightened a pair of handcuffs too tightly around Harry’s slender wrists.

“Harry Dresden. You are under arrest for the deliberate tampering of medical equipment. Attempted murder…”

One of Marcone’s eyebrows rose abruptly as the laundry list of broken laws spewed from the gleeful Lieutenant’s lips. 

“I haven’t ‘attempted’ to kill anyone.” Harry protested.

“Oh yeah? So then the red that’s rimming your lips is a new shade of lipstick? I don’t know what sick shit you were up to in here but I can guarantee that it was illegal and probably disgusting.”

Marcone was kept from interrupting the scene in front of him because of the overly solicitous care that the hospital staff was giving him now that he had finally woken up. He had been gently lead to the bed that Harry had dragged him from only minutes before and was being tucked in solicitously. A pair of nurses’ tutted over the ripped stitches in his side and eyed the sliced wrist with horror.

“John!” Harry managed to rush out before he was dragged forcefully from the room. “Tell Bob that he has my permission to protect us by whatever means necessary.”

Marcone managed a regal nod before a babbling doctor with a penlight and a death wish grabbed his jaw.

“The only person that Marcone needs protection from is you asshole.” 

Murphy’s low snarl was almost drowned out by a sudden buzz of power as they exited the small hospital’s back doors. Waiting patrol cars’ lights were flashing silently and the only other person present was a trucker who had been napping in his rig when the police car showed up.

All of it faded into the background as Dresden struggled to gather his magical senses, which were still a little sluggish because of the power he had exerted during the ritual. Everywhere he looked the only thing he could see were the slowly lengthening shadows of a Chicago evening. 

Nothing out of place. 

Nothing strange.

Something flickered into existence in an alley across the street. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Uncuff me!”

“Yeah right. Get your ass in the car.”

“Hells bells woman, uncuff me! Right now! Immediately! At once! ASAP!” 

Dresden rooted his feet into the concrete jerking the much smaller woman to an unwilling halt.

Murphy jerked Dresden around by wrenching him by the elbow so that he faced her, putting his back towards the now writhing shadows in the alley.

“What is your problem?”

Harry craned his head over his shoulder trying to keep the alley within his line of sight. A sudden flash of grey lit up his vision as a dozen wardens stepped out of the alley. Led by a grim faced Morgan, who clutched his sword in a white knuckled two-handed grip.

Every single one of them looked murderous.

Harry could feel the blood draining from his face. Whatever his expression must have been, it was suitably alarming because Murphy quit shouting at him and peeped around his chest, straining to see what had his attention.

She never got the chance, because the moment her grip loosened on Dresden’s arm he ripped free from her and with a popping sizzle wrenched his arms free of the cuffs.

Murphy’s mouth opened in an enraged yell that would never emerge because Harry shoved her into the back of the patrol car and shut the door behind her before she had a chance to pull her wits back around her. 

Melting the handcuffs had burned deep furrows into his wrists and Harry had to restrain a gasp of pain as he turned to face a group of fully armed fully trained magic practitioners with the power of both the White Council and the Red Court behind them.

Harry threw a flick of power at the police car. 

“Obfirmo”

There were audible cracks as all of the locks on the car went down at once and then the only sound left in the area was the dull thuds that Murphy and the uniformed driver fists made as they pounded on the bullet proof glass.

His moment of inattention cost him dearly. Dresden felt the cement tumble out from underneath him as Morgan’s magic ripped through the ground and the entire parking lot began to ripple. 

Hitting the ground in a roll, Harry could feel sharp concrete and glass cutting into his bare chest. He didn’t even bother getting all the way to his feet before returning with his own salvo.

The gout of flame must have felt like a kiss from the devil as it licked at the flame resistant robes the magic sewn into them desperately fighting to protect vulnerable human flesh from the bite of the magical flame.

Harry had to fling himself sideways from his crouching position as a sharply featured woman slashed her sword in his direction, a gust of wind pushing his flames back towards him and making him scramble to regain even footing. 

Batting at his still smoking hair, Harry had to keep moving as magical strike after strike erupted around him as the warden’s began to fling magical attacks at him without reprieve. 

Concrete exploded wherever he tried to place his feet.

Air seemed to be in short supply as it pulled away from him only to come back baring sharp bits of rubble that bashed him in the face and torso.

Roots crawled out of the earth entangling his feet and making it impossible for him to escape from the pummeling that he was receiving. 

Everywhere he looked the only thing that Harry could see were the ever-encroaching gray of the Warden’s cloaks. 

When they were close enough that Dresden figured that had him close to surrounded in a loose circle he finally bared his magical teeth.

“Repello.”

Morgan’s eyes widened as he heard that whipsaw menace that he had heard the traces of when he had first met a teenager with dead eyes.

All that potential he had seen, and so much more, fully realized in a word that seemed to bend the world around it as the younger wizard sent everything back towards its’ casters. 

Every scrap of debris that had been thrust at Dresden suddenly found itself flung back at its caster. 

Morgan gritted his teeth and fought back a wince as a particularly large chunk of concrete swept past him and smashed into the face of one of their younger Wardens; sending her to the ground with a dull thud of dead meat. 

This moment of breathing space gave Dresden all the advantage he needed. 

Flinging powerful concussive blasts from the array of rings that adorned both of his fists; Dresden began to swing his lanky limbs in as wide an arc as he could manage. 

Bright flares of magic appeared as the blasts hit the shields of the Warden’s, but Morgan could see the hairline fractures in several that foreshadowed their demise. 

Evidently so could Dresden.

Fingers outspread and palm facing towards the ground, Dresden gritted out his next move. 

“Percutio!”

For a moment nothing seemed to happen and then all of the Warden’s heard the unmistakable sound of metal scraping against concrete. 

Like ill-formed spears long length’s of rebar erupted from the cement with a shattering clang and they broke through two of the weakest shields like they were so much paper.

One of the pieces with nothing to stop it erupted from the back of a gray-templed Warden in a spray of blood and bile before continuing on its journey with no noticeable decrease in its velocity.

The other struck a Warden full in the throat, the grooves of the metal catching on her spine and pinning her against the wall of the hospital. She gurgled breathlessly for several seconds before falling silent, her body kept upright by the length of metal.

Panting, Dresden pulled himself to his full height. Nine more. The power that the last spell had taken had nearly drained his already dangerously low magic levels. He had been hoping to take at least a few more of them out with that last trick but several of the shields had held steady against the assaulting force.

More magical blasts from the remainder of the group pummeled at Harry, he pulled up weak shields when he could but the overwhelming numbers soon brought him to his knees.

Snarling defiantly, Harry swayed as he tried to stay upright against his exhaustion. His eyes swept the remainder of the forces and Morgan smiled when he saw bleak resignation begin to envelope the too lean face.

Striding forward Morgan drew his sword back and forward as quickly as he could. Desperately trying to decapitate the man that the White Council wanted dead so badly. Morgan prepared for the brief hesitation that sharp metal meeting bone offered and felt instead a ringing clamoring up his arms as it met metal instead. 

Eyes traveling up the length of the slender curve of the sword that had stopped him from fulfilling his mission, Morgan felt them widen against his will as they met the glimmering yellow of his opponents’.

“Luccio?”

The smile that split the somber face was wrenchingly not right and the small women leant her weight against Morgan’s sword and pushed him back far too easily.

“Anastasia Luccio isn’t home right now. But if you’d like to leave a message I’ll be sure to pass it along...After I’m done with her.”

The last sentence was purred lasciviously as s/he licked his/her lips. Morgan wrenched his blade free of the overwhelming pressure noticing that three more of his companions were down for the count. They either lay still and cooling or were desperately trying to keep their exposed intestines from spilling out into the street. Luccio’s sharp blade having made easy work of slicing open their delicate bellies.

“Bob,” Dresden rasped, “So very glad you could join the party.”

“How could I resist such a lovely invitation?”

Whatever had possessed Luccio was almost casually using her magic against the desperate attempts of the remaining Warden’s. No matter how they strained to break through the barrier that had been constructed mere moments after Morgan had pulled back Luccio nothing seemed to put so much as a dent in it.

“Luccio didn’t invite you anywhere monster!” Morgan swung his sword again only to be casually blocked by whatever had taken over his friends’ body.

Not Luccio scoffed. “Please. Swiss cheese has fewer holes than this woman’s mind. Honestly I’m doing her a service considering what the White Council was using her for.”

The respite that Bob’s intervention had given Harry let him regain his feet and he accepted his leather coat that Bob had had draped over one of his arms while he fended off Morgan’s attack.

Feeling the familiar drape of the protective cloth Dresden felt some of his power come back to him in a rush as his connection to Marcone blossomed into full existence for the full time. Physical and magical power rushed through him in a heady wave and he could feel Marcone’s support buoying him towards a feeling that he hadn’t felt since before his father’s death.

It was a happy Harry that launched himself at the remainder of the Warden’s and with Bob at his side and Marcone in his mind and soul he had never felt so cared for, had never felt so powerful.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONEDRESDEN

Dresden marched through the doors of the swinging doors of the police station, his hair singed and ragged and his leather coat slung firmly across bare shoulders and chest.

Agent Johnson’s eyes widened as he took in the cuts and abrasions that were sprinkled liberally across the much taller man’s face and torso before he managed to control his reaction.

“I believe you wanted to speak to me immediately.” The implied asshole was very thinly veiled as Dresden limped to a stop in front of the gob smacked agent.

“Wha..?” Johnson sputtered briefly before he looked around the crowded station at its completely silent occupants before returning to the younger man’s face.

“Where is Lieutenant Murphy?”

“As far as I know she’s still locked in the backseat of the patrol car.”

“PATROL CAR!?!” Johnson’s shriek was high pitched and made Dresden wince back.

“Could you maybe keep it down so that something other than dogs can hear you? I’ve got the headache from hell here and you’re not helping.”

“Why,” Johnson ground out, fists clenching and unclenching turning pink and white in turns, “Is Lieutenant Murphy locked in a patrol car and what the hell happened to you?”

“Oh,” The normally grim faced man in front of him positively beamed with bonhomie and good will as he brushed off what look suspiciously like a human tooth from a crease in his torn and dusty trousers. “That’s the good news! I found the asshole responsible for the assault on Marcone.”

Jerking his head back towards the door, as it swung open, Johnson felt his jaw flapping as a slender woman none to gently lead a man who looked as though he’d been in the same tornado that had so changed Dorothy’s perspective without the protection of a house.

“Agent Johnson, it is my pleasure to introduce you to Donald Morgan. The man who just assaulted me after Murphy took me in to custody. I’m quite sure that once she’s been released from her inadvertent prison, Murphy will corroborate this. I’d like to press charges.”

Johnson had to clench his eyes shut for several seconds as he struggled and finally managed to grasp a measure of preternatural calm.

“And your friends name is?”

The tiny woman released Morgan none to gently into the hands of a sputtering officer’s care before she turned to face Johnson. The smile on her face was predatory and the agent had to struggle to keep protective hands away from his crotch as she slunk towards the slightly taller man. 

“Name’s Luccio. I work for Dresden.” 

Unnatural yellow eyes looked up at him demurely and Johnson couldn’t restrain a shiver as he met them for several seconds before he wrenched free of the hypnotic gaze.

Johnson let himself escape Dresden and Luccio’s presence by sending several officers to get Murphy out of the car and taking possession of a very quiet Morgan.

He had a feeling that the only charges that would stick would be to the man that he was leading towards an empty interrogation room.

Whatever power game was happening among the high-powered criminals, in Chicago at least it seemed that Dresden and Marcone had overcome whatever opposition had tried to stage a resistance.

He had a feeling that the world would feel the reverberations of this power struggle for many years to come.

DRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONEDRESDENMARCONEDRESDEN

A/N

So.

That chapter just kind of happened. 

Bob snuck in through a back door and became a BAMF! A fem!BAMF at that.


End file.
